


No Dress Code: Overruling Interference

by GuileandGall



Series: No Dress Code [18]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 03:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13263129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: After six months, more than nerves are starving for a reunion. With a burgeoning rock career, Eli’s away for long spans of time. In the early years, the tours were short enough that sporadic flights to this city and that managed to maintain their sense of connection and closeness, at least until breaks in his schedule. But when weather and family interfere, questions start to crop up. Furia can’t help but wonder if they’ve reached the point of critical mass—the point of ‘if you love him, let him go.” Once she reaches Las Vegas, however, it seems Eli already has an answer.





	No Dress Code: Overruling Interference

**Author's Note:**

> The situation appeared in my head first. Mainly, how do they handle prolonged absences. Then Eli kind of went off script and fulfilled a prompt forwarded to me by Close (@bosselimitchell), whom I must always thank for letting me take her character on an AU ride through a bumpy happily ever after.

**-1-**

The symphony of honking horns and angry yells was not quite the musical serenade Furia had been hoping for that night. Though in the oversized backseat of the sedan sent to meet her at the airport, Furia was buffered from more than most of it. Soft jazz filled the cabin, and not more than the stretch of an arm away from her heated leather seat, there was a well-stocked mini bar with snacks and drinks. Compared to most of the victims of whatever caused the freeway standstill she was better off than most, even after spending two hours on a plane and an hour before that in the Stilwater terminal.

In a delicate gesture, she bent and twisted her arm, her fingers gently angling the dial of her watch before her hands dropped back into her lap with far more drama and an irritated sigh. Glancing out the window, she knew nothing could be done about the traffic, but she fidgeted anxiously in her seat. When things got like this back home, Furia knew how to traverse the city to get around them. _Surely there must be a better route_ , she thought, leaning forward a little. “Isn’t there a surface road that might get us there quicker?”

“Sorry, Miss,” the driver replied with a consoling tone that at least hinted at sympathy. It didn’t help her mood, but it was nice all the same. “I’d probably take us an hour to even get off the loop.”

Her second sigh was a little louder than the first. Pressing her lips together into a thin line, she fell back against her seat again. Her tongue traced the backs of her teeth as she studied the sea of glowing red taillights beyond the tinted window—a cheap imitation for the light show that she should be watching at that moment. She checked her watch again. _They_ _’d be just starting the first set now_ , she thought. Certainly, likely with some kind of dramatic entrance that ignited the crowd, Eli could be all about the drama, on stage and even off he was a bit of a performer.

A soft smile crept over her lips just with the thought of him. Warmth bloomed in her chest, before it went tight and twisted.

_What would he think?_

It made her blood run cold. She’d told him she would be there. At this rate, she could likely miss the entire show, though she held out a hope of being before the last song finished. That had happened once or twice. For a moment, she could almost feel the tight squeeze of his embrace, and her tongue tingled with the memory of the tang of his sweat. Swallowing hard, she tugged at the hem of her skirt and crossed her legs before wrapping her arms around herself.

She missed him too much, she thought with another drawn out sigh. A frown downcast her features—she’d only taken a handful of days off and wanted to maximize every second. So far, her plan failed miserably. This show was the only one he had scheduled during the time that she’d be visiting. Hell, it was the very reason she came out that night, for that particular week in Las Vegas. Between both their schedules, they would have nearly seven entire uninterrupted days together before boarding flights going in separate directions. And it was supposed to start with her there for this show, watching from the wings while Eli stole the spotlight and basked in it.

She pulled at her bottom lip with her teeth; her fingers played with the silk of her blouse. With a twist of her arm and a downward glance, she caught sight of the hands on her watch again. They’d been on stage for fifteen minutes, more than likely Eli already had his shirt off, much to the joy of a large demographic of Pirate Hole’s fans. The mere thought of it made her smile, though she had seen that sight many times, she still vividly remembered the first time. Thought of that moment and what happened after brought a rush of heat to her cheeks.

The drive from the airport to the venue, which had been scheduled for 20 minutes on her itinerary, took several hours and soured her mood considerably. _I could have walked there by now._ Furia seethed with irritation and frustration. Even though that wasn’t actually the case, she felt like it might have been a more viable option than creeping down this accursed freeway doubling as a parking lot.

“Should I just take you to the hotel?” the driver asked after receiving a text, or so she guessed when she saw the screen of his phone light up.

It was probably from Pierce or someone else with the crew.

Furia checked her phone, looking for some kind of notification as well. She’d sent Eli more than a few texts since becoming trapped in the traffic mess. All either apologizing, explaining the situation, or telling him she wished she were there, that she hated missing the show, and spattered with Xs and Os and I love yous. The more recent were assurances added that she’d see him as soon as she could, even if she had to get out and walk. She didn’t know if he’d wait at the venue expecting her to show up there, or if he’d return to the hotel to relax while she grew more and more anxious in the back of the hired car.

“So stubborn. Why won’t you pick up the phone, pouty boy?” Furia tapped her phone against her chin, considering the driver’s question after the trend of no responses from Eli continued. “Take me to the hotel,” she finally sighed, sending Eli a text to let him know about the detour.

 

**-2-**

In the marble foyer of the hotel every whisper sounded like a shout and with the sounds of the casino it was louder than the traffic jam she finally escaped. Not wanting to delay her reunion one second longer, Furia hadn’t argued with the concierge or the bellhop like she usually might. Stowing her independent streak, she just let the young man carry her bag and escort her. She remained on autopilot, musing, as her heels clicked across the slab floor and as the elevator pings counted the floors. _Six months_. That’s how long it had been since they were last in the same room together. Phone calls, video conferencing, and catching glimpses of him on the covers of tabloids were a poor substitute for Eli Mitchell in the flesh.

She checked her phone again. Still no answer. Eli could have a short attention span, but he wasn’t cruel. Well, not to her, anyway. He must not be anywhere near his phone, otherwise he would have replied. She was certain of that, which just made her worry. If he wasn’t replying, he hadn’t gotten any of her texts, which meant he might think she decided not to come. That was worse.

The bellhop seemed content to take his time, though Furia walked on his heels in an effort to hurry him along. Finally, he turned toward a door and opened it, brandishing the key at her in a swift smooth motion. She almost took it, but Eli’s yelling carried into the hall. “She wouldn’t just not show up without a word. She doesn’t do that. I don’t care if the police say 24 hours. Tell them I haven’t seen her in six months and they need to find her now.”

His worry proved to be only a minor relief of her own. “Sorry,” she mumbled as she pushed passed the man carrying her bag, bumping him into the doorjamb with a guiding touch on his shoulder. “Where’s your phone?” she barked at Eli. She didn’t really care where the device was, she just wanted his attention.

His head snapped toward her. He just stared at her for a beat before the phone receiver clanged off the table. “Sol,” he said, like her name was oxygen. The look in his eyes glued her to that spot. Like the metaphorical deer in headlights, everything else faded away. Her heart lightened when he dashed across the room and swallowed her in a tight embrace, his mouth crashing against hers in a way that seemed to steal every care beyond the two of them.

He kissed her like she was the last person on Earth in their very last moment of existence, and she didn’t want it to end. But it did, far too soon, even though it left her gasping for breath. His hand swept across her cheek with the appreciation an art lover might lavish on a sculpture, then it threaded through her hair as he studied her face. It was almost like he was looking for some injury or physical sign that would tell him what delayed her arrival. “Where’ve you been, love? I was worried. I was trying to get someone to convince the governor to call out the National Guard or something.”

His overreaction, as endearing as it was, remained unanswered. She squeezed him, burying her face against his skin and breathing in that smoky scent of him. A quick peck and a lick of her lips left her tongue tingling again with the tang she remembered. “You feel amazing,” she mumbled into the crevice of his neck as she clung to him. He was still bare chested from the show, and so warm. Even if that hadn’t been the case, she’d still have thought the same thing. No one else’s embrace could duplicate the sensation of Eli. Her body thrummed in his arms, tension sliding out of her back as she just hung on.

“I know.” His voice didn’t have quite the same egotistic tone as usual. “So, do you.” He pulled away only enough to press a kiss to her temple, leaving his lips there against her skin. It only made her want more. “What happened?”

“Worst traffic ever. It was like a parking lot.” She shifted enough to get her lips so very close to his, but not nearly close enough for her tastes.

“Sounds boring.”

“Very. And infuriating,” she admitted, clutching the back of his neck. “I’d rather have been watching you writhing on stage.”

Eli tipped his head back, taking his lips a little farther away. “I do not _writhe_.” The word came out with a little wrinkle of his nose, demonstrating his distaste.

She pouted at the additional distance, pulling gently at his neck. “Undulate? Contort? Squirm?” she offered in exchange.

His aqua eyes widened at her suggestions; clearly, they weren’t apt in his opinion, then his hands moved to begin a relentless tickle assault upon her ribs. “I’ll make you squirm.”

In moments, she was laughing and thrashing in his grip. Despite every inkling to the contrary, she sought a retreat. Even when she did escape, falling onto the large beige sofa, he followed with those tickling fingers as he straddled her lap. Tears streamed down her cheeks, which felt flushed from laughter. “Basta. Basta ya,” she crooned between breaths. “Stop it, Eli!”

Neither of them had noticed the bellhop drop her bag in the living room and leave, closing the door quietly behind him. Nor did they recall the open phone line.

“I’m sorry I missed the show,” she told him with a residual chuckle as her hands pressed over his thighs. “I really wanted to be there.”

He caressed her face with a tender, reverent touch before cupping her cheeks and leaning over her. “Sol, you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Furia rubbed his sides, moving her hands to his back. “But I heard it’s really great. And the main attraction is this really hot bass player who strips down and struts about like a peacock.”

He pressed his forehead against hers, a crooked smirk playing on his lips. The heat in his voice sparked over her skin. “Wouldn’t you rather a private show, my love?” Eli asked, wriggling on her lap.

“Always.” Her breathing came heavily, which she would only blame on Eli’s proximity rather than the relentless tickling. “Do I get the full show or an abbreviated version?” she teased, as she drew her nails down his back, much too softly to suit his preferences, or hers for that matter. It was a tease, earning a hint of a hiss. She wanted him, every inch, both wild as well as moderately controlled, which was all one could really hope for with Eli unless he was deeply asleep. She wanted to hear that lusty growl, make him curse, but she also wanted just the opposite, wanted them to just be enough for each other. Sure, they had a week, but the separation made her greedier than usual.

When one hand brushed down her chest, over the swell of her breast. Her body arched toward the dulled sensation accompanied by a sound that was almost a whimper. She’d missed everything about him—his gaze, his voice, his touch, his kiss, even that nose wrinkle and the things he did that drove her bonkers.

“I did want to see the new show,” she mused, stretching for his lips again. The statement was the absolute truth, not teasing or joking then.

“I know.” His answer mirrored her sentiment, carrying forlorn tinge.

Eli’s lips brushed hers for a moment, and her pulse raced with anticipation but the hand that snaked into her hair turned her head. Feeling his lips burn against the skin of her neck managed to enflame her and incite a rueful pout. While it was certainly a trick of her brain to be sure, the heat of his mouth seared against her skin between the words of his supplementary explanation. Clearly, he intended to drive her mad with lust.

“It’s quite brilliant. The new set and the musical changes. Plus, I brought back the double bass,” he purred against her flesh.

Furia just craned her head to display more of her neck and give him have all the access he wanted. “So, not only did I miss the chance to catch your shirt, I missed you mounting your instrument?”

“ _Private performance_ ,” he replied enunciating each word as he flipped the tails of her blouse open.

Even though she held him close, somehow, he managed to get her buttons undone. _Dios, he could be distracting in the most brilliant ways._

“But it was something. Crowd loved it. Couldn’t get enough.”

“No surprise there,” she replied, pressing her body against his and savoring that skin-to-skin connection. “Have you ever really seen the way your body moves when you’re doing that? So beautiful.” Her hands pulled down his back, slipping over the definition of the muscles there.

He brushed his nose against hers, the corners of his bright eyes crinkling with that grin she knew without having to see it. “Tell me more.”

She leaned back a little as his hands smoothed over her breasts, teasing at the forest green silk and black lace chosen to match the rest of her lingerie, specifically with him in mind. “The first time I saw you onstage, I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” His fingers hooked the lace and pulled it down just far enough to expose her nipples, which he rolled and teased between his fingers. “Truth be told, I love watching you on stage.”

Impossibly, his dimples deepened before he dipped his head to brush those twisted lips along the column of her neck.

Her fingers teased in his hair as she stretched her neck the other direction in offering. “You just twirled that shirt over your head. Your hips moved in sync with the motion too,” she growled, seeing the event clearly in her mind’s eye. “After you sent your t-shirt fly off into the crowd, you turned and showed off the new ink on your back.” Her hands moved over the tattoo in question as she pressed her chest into his hands. “You asked the crowd’s opinion.”

“They approved, of course,” he injected. With her explanation, he hummed approvingly with each moment mentioned, nipping the thin skin of her neck from time to time.

“Of course,” she agreed with a breathy moan. “When you turned part way and looked at the audience over your shoulder, I was certain you knew exactly what you were doing. I mean with the way lean muscle danced underneath your skin, you had to know exactly how hot it was. Hell, you do the same things with your abs whenever anyone’s sucking your cock. Make the prettiest picture you can so that when they look up at you they just want more.”

And as she spoke, he shifted slowly, retreating off her lap. His hands deviated to the waistband of her skirt, much to her momentary disappointment. The soft buzz of the zipper, gave way to an insistent tug as he flicked the tip of his tongue in the dip of her belly button. The look in his eyes encouraged her to keep talking.

“There’s something primal about it. The way you move on stage,” she added, lifting her hips to allow him to peel the skirt off her. When he settled between her knees again, he pressed his hands over her stockings. When he reached the garters, he snapped them against her skin. Biting her lip muffled the moan and kept it in her throat. Still he grinned, bowing to place soft kisses over her belly. “When snap of your hips, it ripples through the rest of your body,” she noted with an appreciative hum of her own.

“Can you feel it here,” he pressed his palm between her legs firmly, making her whimper, “when I do that?”

She stared at him, caught in that aqua gaze. “Sí. Yes.” The admission tumbled from her lips like a gasp, making him grin.

He didn’t say anything, just tilted his head with particular care to look up at her when he took her nipple in his mouth. When he bit her sharply, Furia tightened her hand in his hair and yanked his mouth away from her tender flesh.

“It’s hot. The way you move, the way your body arches and swirls. Like sex personified.”

“By design,” he admitted, his head still cocked at the odd angle she jerked it to.

“At first, I wondered if that’s why I reacted to you the way I did when we met.”

Eli tugged at her knees, pulling her hips flush with his. She shivered, her breath catching in her throat. When he popped his hips against hers, his erection pressed against her own ready flesh. Furia hooked her leg around his hip and rolled against him, letting the motion of her pelvis shift through the rest of her body like it did when she danced for him; it sent a jolt through her even as he groaned.  Furia didn’t mind being pinned there, his chest pressing her into the slightly fuzzy fabric of the sofa, his body situated so perfectly between her thighs.

“So, was that the reason you were panting in the stairwell?”

With a wide smile, she tried to steer his mouth back to hers. “No, that was your lips and your hand,” she replied with a laugh. Her hips shifted against his, knowing the affectation between them wasn’t one-sided; she had the power to make him groan just as wantonly.

When Eli did just that, she sighed as he lowered his head to suck at her neck again. A surprised gasp escaped her when his hand slipped between her legs with the same cheeky forwardness as it had the night they met.

“ _Dios._ ” Her head swam. Every touch had her reeling, and she knew the recent separation was only partly to blame. “Afterward, I thought maybe the only reason you affected me like that was because of how sexually charged your stage performance had been. But I was wrong.”

“You were, were you?” Eli pressed a soft kiss to her mouth, then nipped at her bottom lip. “And, why was it?”

A quiet gasp of breath passed her lips as his fingertip pressed against her clit through the fabric of her panties. “It was just you.” She tightened her hand in his hair, one finger of her other hand pressed under his chin to keep his lips so near hers that with every word they brushed against his skin. “It wasn’t the performance, Eli. It was you. Your fire, that smolder, even the darkness,” she told him, puckering her lips just enough to press light kisses on his. “It was all you, all of you.”

He smiled against her mouth. Tilting his head ever so slightly, their lips met again when he pulled against her grip. The gentle kiss went firm. His tongue teased convincingly, then dove into her mouth when her lips parted. His whole body moved against her with the same consuming passion communicated in his kiss.

“I’d seen you before that night,” he breathed, breaking the kiss only once they were both breathless.

She smiled at him, her hands teasing through his hair, which she had completely disheveled. “You had?”

“Here and there.” Eli’s arm snaked beneath her and unhooked her bra, then he helped slide it and her open blouse off, even though it pulled her hands from his hair. His hands skimmed her hips and ribs, moving to cup and tease her breasts. She arched into his touch, as her nails dug into his biceps. It had been far too long; absence sparked a sense of desperation, which she battled to control. “When I saw you in that stairwell, I knew I had to kiss you. I didn’t want to take the chance you’d disappear again before I did.”

“Lucky you.”

“You have no idea,” he told her with a heated growl, keeping her gaze as he bent and drew a circle around one dusky nipple with the tip his tongue. A ragged moan pierced the relative silence of the hotel suite when he took it into his mouth, working it to a tight peak. Every lick, every squeeze, every caress, stoked a flame that threatened to engulf her at any second. But she held on, clung to every sensation, every moment.

“Six months is too long,” she admitted when his mouth left her breast with a soft pop. Her nipple ached for more; her whole body felt the absence of his mouth.

“Six hours is too long,” he countered, bending his mouth to the other. With fervid diligence, he set to garnering a similar reaction.

“Ay, Eli,” she crooned, her hands flexing in his hair. “I’ve missed you.” Part of her just wanted to hold him and never let him go, but there was a growing need to feel him all over her, inside her. Given her state of Eli-deprivation she basked in his attentions, which bordered on sensory overload.

He gave her breast a lick, his gaze locked on hers and burned with desire and more. “I missed you, too, Sol,” he admitted, then started kissing his way back to her mouth. His hand moved the opposite direction, fingertips eventually teasing over satiny smooth fabric.

She didn’t know how he, of all people, could manage to tease her so mercilessly. Once the detour to the hotel had been decided, she honestly expected to be naked in minutes. She also figured that by now he’d have fucked her against the wall and they’d both be basking in a barely sated afterglow, while priming one another for something more intimate.

“Eli,” she whined, her hips pressing forward seeking more than just the pressure of his palm between her legs.

When he relented easily, his hand diving beneath the delicate undergarment to explore her folds, Furia squeaked at the haste of his acquiescence. The slow movement of his finger choked the air out of her throat as her forehead pressed forward to rest against his. He countered each of her attempts to deepen or sharpen the movement; Eli seemed intent on controlling it and her. Despite her rapaciousness, she was content to let him, at least for the moment.

“And I’ve missed this,” he revealed, his voice dark with desire, with need. “Hearing you say my name like you do and all those sounds you make. Watching you _writhe._ ” The grin on his face told her he wouldn’t let that comment go.

She stared into his eyes, and couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he was still holding out. Though it was easy to guess. Eli got off on pleasing his partners and right now that might just be his aim, she reasoned.  “And here I thought the tickling was what you meant when you said you’d make me squirm.”

“You should know me better than that.”

“I d—” A choked gasp eked out of her throat when his finger slipped into her.  He leaned over her, watching with great attention as her body moved to the motion set by his hand.

While they had an open relationship, it had been quite some time since Furia acted on it alone. There were times in the past when she visited him on the road and they picked up a partner to share together, but even that hadn’t happened in more than a year. It had been longer than that since she took anyone into her bed besides the purple-haired rock star who’d crawled under her skin

“Is this what you think about?” he asked, tilting his head. He looked almost innocent as his finger curled against that rough spot inside her before sliding out and tracing around her clit. “In our bed, alone?” Each word tumbled from his lips with slow deliberation before his mouth met hers.

The course he set repeated as he kissed her. Furia shivered against him, caught between the cushy pillows and the warm, ripples of his firm chest. She clung to him, fighting against the desire just to give in. His tongue teased just like his clever hand, thrusting into her mouth and teasing at her lips at the same purposeful pace. “Please, Eli.”

“Is this what you want, Sol?” A second finger joined the first, leaving her keening and her thighs quivering. His free hand smoothed over the quaking muscle in the leg hooked over his hip before wrapping around her waist again. Eli gave her a supportive little squeeze that tipped her hips, which made her conscious of the shift of his own against her. “Tell me, Sol.” There was an insistence in his voice. “Is this what you imagine when we’re apart?”

“Sí,” she answered almost instantly.

“My fingers inside you?” His teeth nipped at her bottom lip. She could feel herself coming undone, despite the careful way Eli moved—like he did when he edged her.

Her hands smoothed through his hair as she stretched up to kiss him. But in an instant her mind shifted gears enough for her hands to tighten. With great reluctance, she pulled his mouth away and met his intense gaze. “No,” she answered. One hand pressed down his chest, barely squeezing between them. “In bed alone, I’ve imagined it all. That smart mouth of yours, artful fingers, but most of the time,” her hand pressed over the hard bulge in his jeans, “it’s this.” Furia leaned up and pressed a firm kiss on his mouth. When she broke it, she gave his lip ring a tug with her teeth. “Eli, I want you inside me when I come.”

Eli groaned; it was like music to her ears. But it didn’t stop his teasing. She could guess what he was waiting for—her to be closer, at the cusp of orgasm. Somewhere in the back of her mind a question whispered, but she paid it no mind. Engulfed in him and the sensations he inspired throughout her body, her nails burrowed into his shoulder, her fist so tight in his hair that an onlooker might worry that she’d come away with a clump of purple waves.

“Eli,” she moaned, her forehead pressed against his as her body arched, and her hips bucked in a strange staccato against his hand. Then the sensation was gone. Her eyes widened when he leaned away with that Cheshire cat grin of his painting his features. She gulped down a breath, much the same way she did when he left her on edge. Her voice rose in the same scandalized tone, “Eli?”

“You said you wanted me inside you when you came,” he reminded. His hands yanked at her panties, which caught on her garters. Without missing a beat, he changed his grip and just pulled them too, taking her stockings with. She tried to help as best she could, giggling at the way they both struggled in their frenzied state. As she fell back against the cushions, the cold air breezing over her skin made her miss him more than the dulling of the electric sensation coiling through her body.

“This is what I think about, too,” he told her. The subtle popping sound of him pulling at the button-fly of his jeans seemed to echo in the too-quiet hotel suite. Furia slid her arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a kiss when he leaned toward her again. He wriggled, the kiss breaking as he bent to slip his jeans down further. He pulled at her hips again. The heat of him seared against her with a shift of his hips.

“Please, not more teasing,” she all but whined against his lips as she brushed the backs of his fingers over his cheek.

“I miss the way you feel too, Sol.” The gentleness of his tone struck a chord in her. Then his groan mingled with hers as he guided his cock into her, pulling her hips against his. Her mouth met his in a crash, while he waited, buried in her. It wasn’t like him to wait, but she savored it. Eli pulled her body completely against his as he knelt at the edge of the sofa. He encouraged her legs to encircle his waist again. The first snap of his hips had her thighs quivering again, it intensified with the increasing roughness of his movements.

His hands went to her ass, squeezing and pulling her hips against his. In no time at all, his grip tightened to bruising—it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he left fingertip-shaped bruises on her body. Nor would it be the last time that her nails so viciously sought purchase in his skin as to leave bloody crescents. Using the leverage offered by his embrace and her legs around his waist, she rocked her hips against each sharp thrust of his. She lost herself in the pursuance of their pleasure, and at the same time, a part of her never wanted the sensation to end.

Eli seemed to be of similar mind. Like her, he held on. At least until his hand crept between them, his thumb making expert circuits around her clit. Her orgasm hit with naught but an incoherent cry, no Spanish, no cursing, just something that started out as his name and morphed into a primal shriek. As her thighs quaked around his hips and her body tightened around his cock, Eli sank his teeth into her soft neck, knowing just how the sensation would intensify her orgasm. With her keening, his thrusts became erratic, telegraphing his own climax, which arrived with an equally incoherent, animalistic sound that hissed like the start of her name and devolved from there.

Continuing to rock his hips to draw out her orgasm, Eli shifted his hold. The bruising grip released and circled around her body, cradling her against him. Furia’s moans transformed into little whimpers, which eventually became soft giggles. Only when her hips halted, did Eli follow suit. But he didn’t let them separate. She didn’t want that either—being in his arms, being so intimately connected to him, felt too good after so long apart, alone. The thought of it, compounded with the fact that in a few days’ time she’d be returning to that house without him, prompted Furia to wrap her arms even tighter around his shoulders as she buried her face in his neck. She didn’t want to cry, but the tears welled anyway and a sob she trapped in her throat shook her body.

“Sol?” Eli asked, his voice as gentle as the way he squeezed the back of her neck.

“I hate this,” she said. Feeling him tense up, she lifted her head. “No, not this.” She gestured between them. “Being apart. And for so long that I almost forget how you smell, how you feel,” she admitted with a quiver in her bottom lip. “Did you know your soap only smells like that on you?”

He looked at her, staring into her hazel eyes with something that bordered on surprise, as his thumb traced her cheek bone. “I order vanilla ice cream from room service almost every night,” he admitted.

Furia choked out a laugh to keep from sobbing. Eli was a chocolate man, through and through.

“I hate it, too,” he told her, his hand smoothing down the column of her neck. “And as much as I want you right here, every day. I know its selfish to ask for it.”

“I know how you feel. I couldn’t ask you to stay back home with me. Though there are some nights when all I want is to walk into our place and be able to curl up against you. Have you wrapped around me as I fall asleep,” she replied her eyes bleary and twinkling.

The first time he booked an actual tour, something comprised of more than a handful of cities in the tristate area, she’d assured him they would figure it out. Furia wanted him to follow his dreams and refused to hold him back at all; she did everything she could to support this endeavor. She promised she’d be there for him, no matter what, and intended to never break that oath.

“I love you, Eli,” she said, her fingers pushing through his hair again.

He pressed his head into her palm, like a big house cat. “I love you, too, Sol.”

Eli was the only person who only called her by her given name. He never called her Furia, at least not to her face. He’d called her that when talking about her to others, but when it was just the two of them he only called her Sol, or more rarely Soledad.

After several strokes through his hair, she finally said, “We have to figure something else out. This isn’t working the way it used to.” She shook her head and her chest tightened. A worry that this conversation could explode lingered in her mind. “I … I can’t be the only one traveling back and forth. It doesn’t work out so well, especially if an emergency crops up.” Which had been what pushed their last ‘date’ together back and back again.

She had been slated to visit twice before, but the first one got canceled when her mother went into the hospital. Everything had worked out fine, but two months later, weather grounded all flights out of Stilwater for the entire weekend. She’d even considered driving across the bay to Steelport to catch a flight, but their airport was grounding flights, too.

“Maybe if we trade months. One month I come out. The next month, you come home for a few days. They can do the sound checks without you. And so, what if once a month your bus is empty?” she offered in a quickening string of words that showed her ill ease with the topic. It seemed reasonable to her, or had in the horrid car ride over, where she was sitting there missing him so much it made her soul ache. “And this way, if one of us can’t make it one time or even twice, it doesn’t end up being a six-month hiatus.”

He smiled at her, it seemed to widen with each suggestion until he finally kissed her to halt her logical rambling. “We’ll figure it out. I don’t want to have to wait this long to see you ever again,” he agreed. “Gets me all distracted.”

A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth as relief flooded through her. “How would you tell the difference?” she teased.

His grin went crooked and his eyes narrowed. His embrace loosened as his hands attacked her sides again. Furia screeched and fell back against the sofa as he tickled her relentlessly. Her legs loosened and dropped to the floor as she tried to find leverage to push his hands away. Eventually, she got some distance between them, instantly regretting the absence of the warmth of his body and the waning sense of fullness, even if it gave her the chance to catch her breath.

There was a playfulness in his eyes that made her bite her lip. Eli stood, in all his post-coital glory, and toed off his boots. He offered her his hand, which she took without an ounce of hesitation. He stepped out of his jeans.

“I’ll tell you the difference,” he announced pulling her against his chest. Looping a thick arm around her waist, he guided her backward across the suite into the bedroom. “I can’t get you out of my head. I walk past a bakery tray and the scent of vanilla gets me hard. Hell, I used to hate the smell of coffee, now half the time I catch a whiff of it and I can hear that delicious way you hum when you drink your first cup of the morning. It’s remarkably like the sound you make when you have my cock in your mouth,” he added with a cheeky grin.

“Sometimes I hear someone speaking Spanish, and I’ll turn around and look for you. Every time I don’t see you, it breaks my heart,” he said. His hands gripped her hips as his nose nudged hers to get her to tip her chin up. He peppered kisses over her mouth—sweet ones, hard ones, and a few that made her want to feel him inside her again. “I close my eyes and I hear your sweet voice. My dreams bring the feeling of falling asleep in your arms, only for me to wake up tangled in sheets that don’t smell like you and lack the same warmth.”

“Eli.” His name came off her lips like a plea. She knew that torture all too well, and hated that he felt it just as palpably. Furia failed as thoroughly at consoling him as she did at getting herself through those feelings. Her heart ached, but she cradled his face, looking up at him. She didn’t want to ask it, but the question burned in her head. While the interference of their individual lives upon their life together wasn’t easy for her, she worried that maybe it was too unfair. “Is it too much?”

“Every day,” Eli admitted. “But this,” he squeezed her tight, his skin burning against hers, “this makes it bearable. Would I rather have you with me every second?” His fingers coiled in the waves of her inky black hair. “Who wouldn’t?” His lips met hers in a lingering peck. “I’ll never stop asking for it, even though I know it’s unfair to ask. Even though it might never happen.”

“I don’t want you to stop asking,” Furia agreed, interrupting. His slow steps guided them to the edge of the bed, when her calves hit it, her body tensed. Another slow, reluctant separation followed.

“Good.” As she scooted across the cool covers of the bed, Eli followed. “Not a lot of people would put up with this nonsense. With me.”

“They would if they love you.”

He crawled over her, his movements reminiscent of a big cat on the hunt. “We both know most wouldn’t take the time. They just see this and draw their conclusions.”

“You can be a bit of an ass,” she admitted with a loving smile that she hoped would soften the sting of her honesty.

“But it’s such a nice ass.” His heated grin reassured her that the comment was taken in the spirit with which it was delivered.

“That it is. And very popular. I see it all over the Internet.” Her laughed cut off when he lurched forward, his lips crushed against hers, pushing her back into the bank of fluffy pillows with no resistance. She broke the kiss first. “I’m not going anywhere. Even if I’m not always right here, I’m always by your side.”

His body covered hers in such a comfortable way, though no number of blankets could ever replicate it—she’d tried. “I know. And I’m here for you, even when I’m not,” he told her, his thumb brushing her hairline. “I want to be there, Sol. See you in your garden, or interfere with dinner.”

“I guess maybe I’m lucky you’re not there every day or neither of us would ever get dinner,” she said with a giggle. “Though I wouldn’t complain, I couldn’t think of a better reason to miss … well, anything really.”

Eli smiled at her, not the one that told her how much he wanted her but the one that lit his eyes with a contentment so rare that she couldn’t look away. Then he seemed to shift gears on a dime. “I have something for you.”

“Oh, a gift?” Her tone brightening like the ringing of a bell, following his lead. It was a dance she’d finally learned the steps to.

“A couple actually, but I’ll ruin the surprise if I don’t give you this one now.” He rolled off her and pulled open the nightstand drawer. Before a chill could settle over her skin, he was back. He set the small box on her chest between her breasts and leaned on one elbow to watch her.

Without thinking too hard about the size or shape of it, she opened the box with a nonchalance that cracked in an instant. Only when she saw the ring, with a stone the same color as his eyes, did the possibility hit her. Still, she thought she might be over reaching and looked up at him with a shallow furrow in her brow.

“The moment I saw this. I knew it was yours,” he told her.

Furia never thought of herself as the marrying kind. They never even talked about it. The one time someone even hinted at the topic of marriage in general, she’d had a panic attack. Mind you, that was long before she met Eli and even longer before she opened that box. Looking at that ring, looking at him, there wasn’t a hint of panic or anxiety anywhere in her or him.

“Eli?” she whispered.

“I love you, Sol. I want you in my life.” He flashed her that boyish smile. “You give me wings.”

“That’s Red Bull, guapetón,” she giggled, but she knew what he was going for. He’d told her before that her being there, pushing him, not holding him back, wanting him to reach for his dreams meant a lot to him. She never took or accepted credit for anything he achieved, that was all Eli, but she was pleased to see him aim for and reach for his stars.

He laughed, too. “Never touch the stuff,” he said, honestly. He avoided caffeine, because he was hyper enough without any help. Plucking the ring out of the box and taking her hand, his gaze softened. “You’re important to me.”

“And you are to me,” she replied as he slipped the elegant piece of jewelry on her hand. She just marveled—at him, at the gesture.

Eli’s lips brushed over her knuckles. “Marry me, Sol?”

It felt like someone just pushed her underwater, or slammed her against the wall. Her head swam. But amid the waves of crashing thoughts and emotions, the only possible answer passed her lips in a gasp, “Yes.”

He closed the scant distance between them in the space of a heartbeat. Her pulse raced, and she felt a little dizzy, but clung to him. In that moment, he anchored her.

Finally breaking the kiss, she gulped down enough of a breath to ask, “When?”

“Tomorrow?” he suggested, leaning in toward her for another kiss.

“De acuerdo.” The answer came out calm, resolved between kisses. “Okay.” It seemed perfectly logical in that moment.

As he kissed her, his body settling between her thighs and their bodies moving in tandem to a much less primal need, there was a keen awareness of the weight of the ring on her finger and the heaviness of the thought: he wanted to marry her. The consummate bachelor with a reputation that could make porn stars blush wanted that, with her.

More than that, she wanted to marry him. They’d bound their lives to one another years ago, but this … she wasn’t sure what to make of their sudden engagement beyond her desire for it to happen. They’d been together nearly five years and never broached the topic. With the graze of his teeth over her collarbone and the feeling of his hand creeping along the column of her neck, she realized she could think, or over think, about it later. Right now, he deserved every ounce of her attention, and she wanted to savor every iota of his.

 

**-3-**

Sun streamed in the open window, and Furia buried her face against Eli’s bare chest with an argumentative groan. His arm tightened around her waist and the sound she made softened considerably just by that reminder of his presence. She gave him a squeeze—she was right where she wanted to be. Coiling his fingers in her hair, he tugged it to lift her lips enough to facilitate a tender peck.

“Good morning, love.”

“Buenos días, mi pavo real” she cooed at him.

He smiled against her mouth. “I’m thinking chocolate, chocolate chip pancakes,” he mused.

“Tell me you didn’t book this hotel specifically for the pancakes.” Her words lazily rolled out between languid kisses

“Of course, not. They make killer milkshakes, too,” he proclaimed, kissing the tip of her nose and sliding out of her sleepy embrace.

“Only you would book a hotel because of their chocolate offerings.”

“I didn’t book it.”

“But you asked, didn’t you?” Furia accused. The absence of his warmth was entirely unwelcome, so she followed him toward the edge of the bed. Cuddling up against his back, her nails scraped down his sides as she planted lingering kisses across his shoulders.

When he finished dialing, he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. Eli kept hold of the appendage, his thumb toying with the ring on her finger as he placed his order.

“Make that two. Or maybe eggs and bacon,” she suggested not really knowing what she wanted that morning, except him, of course.

He added both to the order. Furia didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose or if his toying with the ring was incidental. She leaned against his back, recalling the moment from the night before until he dropped the phone onto the receiver and turned toward her. “Breakfast is on its way,” he announced with a kiss that declared randy intentions.

The question came out of nowhere, well, that wasn’t completely true. It came from one of those dark, cobwebby corners of her mind. “Did you plan that?” she asked, her hand squeezing his trying to wordlessly communicate which that she meant.

Switching gears on the fly again, Eli pulled her into his lap. “No,” he admitted. “I saw the ring in a shop a while back. Thought it would look beautiful on your hand.”

“And it’s the same shade as your eyes.”

“A matter of luck.” He smirked.

She smiled, a huff of a laugh on her lips as she pecked him. Furia wasn’t so sure it was as simple as that. “And last night?”

“I asked because I want to. Why?” Something dark swirled in his eyes, making the crystalline aqua go all stormy. “Are you reconsidering your answer?”

“Never,” she said with a confident shake of her head. Her thumb brushed over his temple as she held his gaze. “We never talked about this before.”

His shoulder rose under her other hand. “Never talked about going to Antarctica either.”

She giggled, shaking her head again as she pulled him toward her. Permeated with a feeling of serenity, Furia luxuriated in that kiss, her hands cradling his face in the same comforting was his arms embraced her body. When it broke, her forehead rested against his. The storm in his gaze had cleared.

“Did you bring a dress?”

Thinking about it for a moment, she answered, “Not one that’s appropriate for a wedding.”

“I’d prefer you marry me naked. That would make for some amazing photos,” he suggested, eyes skimming over her bare body with an appreciative hum.

He chuckled when Furia poked him in the ribs, though he got more of a reaction than she did when he retaliated with the same gesture.

“Might be too hot for the papers to handle though.” He beamed at her. “I guess that means I’ve got to find a suit, too.”

“Oh,” she cooed, “a rare treat.”

Eli stole another quick kiss.

“You look amazing in a suit,” she told him.

“I look amazing in anything, love. And nothing.”

“Very true,” Furia giggled. “But a suit,” she hummed, her hands running down the front of his chest, as if tracing imaginary lapels. “There’s something really exciting about it. Seeing your tattoos peeking from beneath the sleeves, thinking about everything underneath.” Her hands pressed back up and then moved down over his arms to find his hands on her hips. “Seeing you in a suit always gets me worked up.”

“If last night was any indication, a pair of jeans does it for you, too.”

“Actually, I think it might just be you.”

“Far more likely,” he agreed that damnable boyish grin on his lips.

Furia draped her arms around his neck, her lips finding his. She fully intended to distract him until breakfast showed up, but it seemed this hotel prided itself on prompt service. The knock at the door left her with tingling lips as he deposited her on the edge of the bed. Without a stitch of shame or clothing, he crossed the suite while she pulled the sheet over herself. Half hard and all, Eli pulled open the door and just pointed out where the guy should leave the cart. She only harbored a moment of curiosity when her lover … fiancé grabbed up the jeans he walked out of the night. _Of course, he didn_ _’t put them on. Nope,_ merely scrounged through the pockets for a few crumpled bills to press into the man’s hand.

“Oh, they brought chocolate sauce,” Eli announced, poking through the plates. “I can think of a perfect use for that.” He dipped his finger into one of the little miniature jugs of chocolate then deposited it in his mouth. “Mmm. And it’s warm.”

“Don’t you even think about it.”

He gave her a look that announced he was thinking about _all_ of it. Then dipped his finger again and stalked toward her.

Furia held out her hands, as if it might hold him off. She did at least manage to grab his hand and detoured his finger into her own mouth before he made a bigger mess. Some of what had oozed down his finger smeared on her chin. Once she relinquished the digit, he sucked her skin. “Bet it doesn’t taste near as good on pancakes as it does on you.”

“Of course, it doesn’t, but that’s your only option.”

“What about tonight? It will technically be our honeymoon. Shouldn’t I be licking chocolate off your nipples and sipping champagne from your navel?” he growled against her neck, nipping at a red spot he’d raised on her skin at some point the night before.

Furia just giggled, then hissed. “Maybe I wanted to cover you in chocolate.”

The purr in Eli’s throat went right to her libido. “Can’t imagine a better finish to the day. But breakfast first. If I recall, there’s a little chapel next to the tattoo parlor I hit the first night here.”

“Really?” Furia asked, letting Eli pull her down on the sofa next to him. She was kind of surprised that he’d noticed something like that, only because of the place itself. Despite a first impression that might suggest him to be flighty and frivolous, Eli could be incredibly observant, a trait she’d discovered years earlier.

He drizzled his pancakes in chocolate, then carved out a huge bite. “Can’t really remember. I’m sure Johnny will know. Or maybe Pierce can find one nearby,” he mused, talking with his mouth full.

She winced, then poked him in the knee. She used to mention the habit in conjunction with her corrective gesture. It was really hit or miss if he got what she was aiming at anymore. But even in spite of some of his more annoying habits, she loved this man. No matter how their lives managed to interfere with their ability to share a life together, she adored Eli, loved him more than she could have ever imagined when she met him in that stairwell in her club.

Furia’s shoulder brushed his as she leaned closer pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. Her fingers pressed under his chin and detoured his attention to her. “Eli, eres el amor me vida. Quiero estar contigo para siempre.[1]”

He smiled at her, that sweet boyish smile. “Love, you know I have no idea what you’re saying unless we’re talking about gin or sex.”

“I’m sure you get the gist.” She knew he’d picked up certain words here and there. She pressed a sweet peck to his lips as her fingers skimmed over his Adam’s apple.

Before she could turn her attention to the food and let him return to his dessert breakfast, his hand slipped up the back of her neck, fingers tightening in her hair. And electric jolt burned down her spine coiling into her core. His lips brushed hers with his growled demand. “Tell me.”

With another tug, she gasped as the delightful stinging sensation. “You’re the love of my life, and I want to be with you forever.”

His gaze held hers for several heartbeats before he moved at all. A dark passion permeated his kiss, something far beyond the lust and love they shared in a varying mixture over the years. It spoke of the connection that managed to keep them linked despite the long separations. A moment later something warm drizzled down her neck.

“Eli!” she chirped, breaking the kiss.

He didn’t answer, just dipped his head and drew his tongue along her neck. “Wot?” he asked, wearing that kittenish look that too often saved him from her ire, lukewarm or blazing. Even with chocolate on his lips, she let him off the hook with a sigh.

“I’m taking a shower,” she declared, rising to her feet. Furia grabbed a slice of bacon and padded off to the bathroom. It would be the only place safe from his chocolate sauce, at least until it was gone.

She didn’t get two steps before he yanked at her sheet. Eyeing him over her shoulder, she quirked one brow up at him and let it fall. Like a pendulum her hips swung with every strutting step. Furia knew he was watching her walk away, and she gave him something worth seeing. When she reached the bathroom, she turned in the doorway and glanced back at him. _Oh, yes,_ he was staring. Leaned back against the cushions of the sofa, stroking his cock in a slow motion.

A smile bloomed on her lips. She knew she wouldn’t be showering alone, and it’s likely his pancakes and chocolate sauce were going to get very cold before he got back to them. With a wink, she disappeared into the bathroom.

* * *

 

[1] You are the love of my life. I want to be with you forever.


End file.
